Their Paths run Parallel
by The Orginal Empathist
Summary: The Exile has the unenviable task of seeking out Revan. And his feelings for Visas are still to be resolved... Characters from both games. CHAPTER II NOW UP!
1. Chapter 1

"**We all have our heroes and when they fall, we die" – Atris, Jedi Historian**

Lek was brought to consciousness not by the deafening roar of crumbling rubble; nor was he saved by the sound of the ancient platform splitting asunder, teetering uneasingly above the neon-green glow of the centre of the planet. It was not the familiar humming and rumbling of the ship which, until recently, had belonged to a greater man than he; his Jedi training had nothing to do with it either. It was the thought of her that brought him to.

"_My life for yours."_

_Visas._

There she was – alone. He saw her outline very clearly, but her features were blurred by shadows. Strange shadows, they were, blacker than most, without form, without… rationality? Did that make sense? No, it didn't. Somehow. Her lightsaber was drawn and ignited, but there was something wrong… She was waving her weapon, mindlessly, without the extreme finesse that was so characteristic of her, normally apparent in everything that she did. Rain pelted down on her, soaking that exquisite headdress that covered the space where her eyes would have been, had she been human, and ran past her full, deep red lips. The shadows around her started to form shapes, strange forms. Not human, not like anything Lek had ever seen. Visas took a sweep at the air, the glowing blade humming, but cleanly missed all of the forms. A cry of frustration escaped from the depths of her lungs… before it was replaced by a scream of pain. Whatever it was had got her, exerted whatever deadly sorcery they possessed on her.

_No._

"My life for yours!" She screamed.

Her fall took an age and the dull thump of her lifeless body was reflected with an opposite action nearly a galaxy away, in what would otherwise have been the grave of the man she had loved since she first saw his face.

He woke with a start.

_She was in danger._

Malachor V, dying for a second time around him, came slowly into focus as one of the five pillars surrounding the dark centre of Trayus Core cracked and crumbled. Lek's super-human, some would say even super-Jedi, reflexes brought him to his feet. The pillar collapsed inches behind him as he struggled to see through the dust that engulfed him. Through the chaos, a yellow glow on the near horizon, a glow that was well known to him. Lek scanned around the platform – where was Kreia? Despite all that she had done, he still had respect for her. She knew more about the Force and, more importantly, of Revan's fate, than of any other sentient being in the galaxy; she was also, judging from her effective dispatch of three Jedi Masters, potentially dangerous for the entire future of the Jedi… and of the Sith. He could not allow her to slip through his fingers, not when she was so close. His head snapped in the direction of the glowing centre of the platform, where he had met Kreia for what he hoped would be the only confrontation in which he would ever fight his former mentor. There she was, her lifeless body strewn. His willed himself to push his protesting body to the limits of his endurance as he ran to her side.

"Warning: Master, you are in danger!"

That all-too familiar tinny voice, now slightly alarmed, the one that always sent a shiver down his spine. HK-47, once Darth Revan's personal assassin droid, now only a battered and chipped shadow of his former glory (though Lek and his companions knew better than to point this fact out to HK), leapt with surprising agility, leapt from the Ebon Hawk's boarding ramp. The droid's ability to completely ignore even the greatest dangers had stunned Lek so often now that he wasn't surprised that it was so eager to leap onto a crumbling platform to save it's new master.

"Statement: Master, if you continue towards your intended destination, you will place yourself in unnecessary danger!"

Lek paid no notice to HK, knowing that it was imperative to get Kreia back onboard the Hawk. He deftly dodged the remains of the third pillar, soaring straight over it. He hit the ground and found himself standing before Kreia's body – or was it a corpse? She's traded her plain, practical brown traveling to those a Sith Lord might wear. Lek had to remind himself that that was, ultimately, what she was. What she had always been, what she would always be if she was still alive and not brought to the path he walked. He approached the glowing red orb where she lay, seemingly lifeless, with caution. Despite the hazards of the disintegrating academy, there was a dark power in that orb that he was wary of. So he knelt before it and meditated.

"Disbelieving Query: Master…?"

Lek blocked out HK-47's attempt to stop him from doing what had to be done. He had to see before he could see, hear before he could hear, understand before he could understand – what this strange woman had meant to him.

"_Are you surprised? All that talk of hatred, manipulation and standing on your own two feet…you don'tget any more Sith Lord than that."_

That had been Atton's voice. Lek couldn't remember the entire conversation, but it had been just after he had returned from the Jedi Enclave, the grave of Masters Vrook, Zez-Kai Ell and Kavar, men Lek had known and respected, particularly Kavar. It had been a grave created by her. By Kreia. They had been the last bastion of hope for the dying Jedi. The Sith had believed Lek to be the last remaining Jedi. Malak, Nihilus and Sion – not to mention Revan - had killed and turned so many that it had not been an unreasonable assumption. Still, Lek had known that it was not true. He knew there had been hope. He knew that the Sith could be defeated, order restored to a troubled galaxy, albeit a galaxy that generally welcomed the death of their own protectors.

"_All that talk of hate…"_

Of course. That had been all that Kreia had ever been, all she had ever had. Hate for the Council and for their teachings had driven her to the power of Trayus; hate for Sion, whom she had betrayed and been betrayed by; hate for Nihilus, a pretender, who felt himself to be the most powerful Sith Lord to have ever lived – she had known better, he was neither truly alive nor was he truly a Sith Lord. And she had hated, above all things, the thing that gave her power, that had placed her above ordinary beings in the natural order of things: The Force.

But, despite this life of hate, there had been one love. It had been more than the love that normally developed between a Master and an Apprentice. It had been, on Lek's part, a love built entirely on respect for her wisdom, her knowledge of the Force and how it found its way into the lives of each and every living creature. It had been her understanding of the subtle consequences of the tiniest actions and how she interpreted the natures of concepts such as good and evil.

"Does it matter? Of course it does, such titles allow you to break the entire galaxy into light and dark, categorize it." 

That had been her response when he'd asked if she was a Sith. His ignorance had astounded her, just as it astounded him now. She had transcended the gap between the Dark and the Light. She was neither and yet she was both. She could control those impulses that weak good and evildoers could not – she could be both, be whatever was required to achieve her goals. Lek had been wrong to call her Sith. That she was not. Maybe she had been once. Or maybe she had never truly been consumed by the Dark Side

"Perhaps I am neither and I hold both as they are, parts of a whole. Know that I am your teacher and that is enough."

Yes, it had been enough.

But the love on her side? What foundation had that had? One of respect…or something darker?

Atton would probably have claimed that Kreia's only trained Lek to serve her own purposes – to show both the Jedi and the Sith what she had become and to bring about the death of the Force. But it had been more than that. Lek knew that, just as he knew that Atton and his other companions would never accept it. While she had sought him out for these reasons, seriously risking her life along the way, something had developed between them.

"You are not a Jedi. Not truly. And it is for that that I love you."

Was that it? His individual philosophy, his approach to the Force? How he had gone to war against the Mandalorians, defying the Order, sot that he may save lives? That he had come back, stood before the Jedi Council for judgment, and defiantly defended his actions? And despite all this, he had remained true to the light, true to himself? Was that the reason?

Maybe not. Maybe the answer would reveal itself in time. But not now.

Lek was pulled out of his thoughts by a heavy metal hand.

"Extrapolation: Master, it seems likely that this platform will not remain stable for much longer." HK was right; the glowing red light at the centre of the platform was dying. Trayus Academy had conceded – the shadow field generator had done its job well - machines would win this time.

Lek disregarded HK, and reached out for the dark, cloaked form. His hand was shaking, a poor testimony to the Jedi training he had received which was supposed to help him resist strong emotions.

But when he pulled the hood of the cloak from Kreia's head, the rest of the cloak fell to pieces and disintegrated into a million pieces, then ten million, then a hundred million, revealing nothing underneath. He'd been too late.

Their bond had weakened to the point of non-existence and she had become one with the Force, leaving him with so much to learn and no-one to learn it from.


	2. Chapter 2

"_**Cast aside your sight, cast aside what you can see" – Kreia, Former Sith Lord, Former Jedi Historian, Former Jedi Mentor**_

The second that HK and Lek clambered aboard, Atton pushed hard on the throttle and violently pulled the Hawk upwards until it was vertical. Whatever had caused Lek to linger in the Trayus Core could very well cost the lives of the entire crew. And, if they all died… What would have been the point in fighting anyway? After Kreia had killed Vrook, Zez Kai-Ell and Kavar and Atris had fallen to the Dark Side…It seemed likely that Lek was indeed the Last Jedi. But if he died…

With that thought, Atton realized how much weight lay on his shoulders. He gritted his teeth and reached out with the Force, as Lek had showed him. It seemed to him that he could feel the intense heat of the destruction of Malachor V, regardless of the ship's cooling system.

This is it. We can't escape in time. I can't escape in time.

Atton shook the thought from his head. His brow furrowed as his concentration became intense to a point that even he thought he'd never been able to achieve. He would need something more than his skill as a pilot and something more than his basic understanding of the Force if he and the crew were to survive this alive. He reached out further with his mind then he'd ever done before, praying that the solution would become apparent.

Atton.

_Atton._

_Atton, I know you can hear me._

_Lek?_

_Atton…This is your battlefield, not mine. _

Lek, I can't do this. Malachor… 

_Malachor isn't relevant. The battle takes place in your own heart. It isn't one that I can win for you…But it is one that you can win for me…_

_Lek?_

_Lek?_

_Lek?_

He'd gone.

But he was right. It was a battle that Lek could not win for him. Equally, it was not a battle that Atton was fighting for himself – he was fighting it for Lek, for the life of the Last Jedi. Lek had taught him only rudimentary Force techniques, but had talked of many more. One in particular came up again and again. And old technique that the Jedi pilots had used in the Sith Wars and one that Cay Qel-Droma was particularly famous for.

Atton reached with his mind into the ship's humming sub-light engines and, ever so slightly…nudged them.

They responded.

For a split second, Atton was too amazed to react. The thought of Lek brought him to… There was still work to be done. He reached out again, this time deep within the workings of the engine and pushed with his mind. The engine moaned in protest, but Atton was unyielding… The Hawk would escape Malachor even if it was the last escape it ever made.

Lek smiled to himself. They'd be all right.

No one dared interrupt Atton…Even though he was piloting the ship with his eyes tightly shut, as though he was in some kind of deep sleep, they knew better than to exchange more than frightened looks with each other.

But they knew he'd do it. They all felt it… Even the droids were silent.

Atton's mind became numb to anything outside the ship… He was only aware of the necessity that was speed. He pushed the engine once more with his mind before slowly withdrawing to the cockpit. He was expecting a difficult transition – but nothing like this. The sub-light drive refused to be ignored. Atton attempted to forcibly tug his mind out, but he was denied. His consciousness was trapped and he couldn't drag it out.

"Something's wrong. Really wrong" Mira spoke only in a whisper, but everyone heard. Lek and HK remained silent; Visas nodded in acknowledgement; T3 whistled mournfully; Bao-Dur exhaled loudly; Brianna gave a rare look of disbelief – she had always avoided most of the crew, with the exception of Lek, especially Atton and it was not surprising that she did not know quite what to expect from him.

"He must be assisted." Brianna strode quickly off towards to the cockpit.

"No."

Lek turned around to the one who would dare to command such a strong-willed woman and was astonished to find that it was Visas, who had lived nearly her entire adult life in the service of Darth Nihilus. Brianna stopped for a brief moment to shoot Visas a malicious glare and then carried on.

"Brianna… Do not take one more step forward." Lek's deep voice, the same voice that had lead Republic soldiers against the Mandalorians as well as a rag-tag selection of assassins, bounty hunters and ex-soldiers against the Sith, forging the beginnings of a new Jedi Order in the process.

Brianna's lip twisted. She could ignore that blind Sith, the one who Lek had insisted would help them destroy a common enemy, the one who had stolen Lek from under her nose when she had believed him to be dead. But she could not ignore him. She could not ignore the man who had exposed her mistress's lies, who had traveled half way across the galaxy to save her from Atris's wrath. She could not ignore the man that she loved.

Then we wait.

Atton felt light-headed, but not the kind of light-headedness that comes from a lack of oxygen or from standing up to quickly. This was a kind of light-headedness that was caused by exerting his Force abilities to the extreme. He could not pull himself away; he had to face the Force.

He cleared his mind and disregarded everything he thought he knew. He was so good at blocking out the Force, from obstructing invasions into his mind, whether they be from Sith or Jedi, but that would be of no use to him now. He had to stop fighting the Force and start living under its influence.

And with that thought, Atton Rand, who had once hunted and killed Jedi, became as close to that which he had hated as he would ever become.

"Here goes nothing", he mumbled under his breath as he accelerated, leaving the husk of the former world behind him.

The ship was still; the tension was more tangible than any of them would have ever thought possible. Visas was silent, her blood-red lips twisted. Brianna was fiddling absently with the Jedi robes she was wearing. The droids had fallen silent. Bao-Dur was leaning with both hands on the large holo-projector that resided in the middle of the main hold, his expression intense but completely unreadable.

However, Lek thought that Mira looked more nervous than any of the others. It was a subtle thing. Someone who had not traveled with her, rescued and been rescued by her, led her on her first steps to becoming a Jedi, would not have noticed it, but it was there. Lek closed his eyes and sent a wave of tranquility to her through their Force Bond. He re-opened his eyes slowly, locked them on Mira and saw the slightest hint of calm upon her face.

_He's done it _he heard her voice in his head.

_I know _he replied.

Atton strode out of the cockpit and into the main hold with a grin on his face and a feeling of elation quite unlike anything he had ever experienced. He'd saved his own life, but more importantly he'd saved Lek… The last Jedi and the only hope for Atton's redemption.

There was a moment of silence. It lingered there for a while and Atton's stomach sunk suddenly an inch or two…His eyes met the Handmaiden's first, but she quickly turned her gaze. He looked next at Bao-Dur, whose expression was unreadable as always. Finally, he turned his head to Mira. The corners of her mouth were curled into a smile, which Atton returned. She grinned and then they both erupted into fits of laughter.

"You crazy son of a Hutt!" she teased as she ran up to him.

Lek and Bao-Dur exchanged knowing looks as the red-headed bounty hunter placed Atton into a playful headlock and scratched the top of his head. The two of them chuckled, their laughter bouncing off of the walls. It sounded beautiful to Lek after so many years of darkness, a humorless time, now broken by two people who had until now mistrusted each other so deeply. He exchanged knowing looks with Bao-Dur and knew that what was happening was just as important for the Iridonian as it was for him – since the Mandalorian Wars, Bao-Dur had never felt anything but a deep sadness, a well of sorrow, pulling him down. Maybe it would now be relieved.

Only three crew members seemed not to approve of the bounty hunter's and the scoundrel's actions. HK-47 turned away in disgust, but that was to be expected; Visas, as hypocritical as it may have seemed, frowned on their actions; Brianna turned on her heel smartly and left the hold in silence.


End file.
